『 muses ▯ open starters ▯ guidelines ▯ memes
PERSONAL HEALTH = Slow Activity
✶⋆.˚ also @ jetlaguar2 (canon muse rp blog)
[ pinned last updated: 3 Jul. ]
KIROKAZE
will byers stan first human second
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
hello vonnie

gracie abrams

blake kathryn
Cosimo Galluzzi
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
official daine visual archive
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Today's Document
Cosmic Funnies
todays bird
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
🪼
EXPECTATIONS
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Stranger Things
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@jetlaguar
『 muses ▯ open starters ▯ guidelines ▯ memes
PERSONAL HEALTH = Slow Activity
✶⋆.˚ also @ jetlaguar2 (canon muse rp blog)
[ pinned last updated: 3 Jul. ]
Baby Cringer
Louise Glück, from "The Reproach" in The Triumph of Achilles (originally published in 1985)
JACOB ELORDI
ON SWIFT HORSES (dir. Daniel Minahan, 2025)
Jacob Elordi as Julius On Swift Horses (2024) dir. Daniel Minahan
RP starters: Flirting ( + responses to it. )
“You come here often?”
“Can I offer you a drink?”
“So.. You expecting someone?”
“Do you need a place to stay for tonight?”
“I gotta tell you… you look incredibly hot.”
“Do you want to dance with me?”
“Look at us… we are basically a couple already.”
“I bet you would look even better without your clothes on.”
“Are you single? Just asking.”
“You’re the most beautiful person I have ever encountered.”
“What would you say if you and me would go somewhere else?”
“I love the way you’re dressed.”
“Do I have any chances with you?”
“Do you have anything better to do later?”
“Can I get your phone number?”
“You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type.”
“I can do whatever you want, babe.”
“You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.”
“I bet guys/gals/people are all over you.”
“You should be a model.”
“Are you… trying to flirt with me?”
“Maybe if I get a free drink I can consider talking to you.”
“That won’t work. Try again.”
“Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?”
“I’m waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“I thought you were taken.”
“So, have you flirted with every girl/boy/one in this bar yet?”
“Do I look like someone who seems interested in you?”
“Compliments won’t pay my drinks.”
multimuse specific ‘why aren’t we interacting yet’ symbol meme — feel free to elaborate when you send one!
💐: Request permission to write up a random starter for you, right now? 🌼: I actually have a plot in mind but I’ve been too shy to bring it up 🌹: I have a muse I think would fit a wishlist post of yours but I don’t know if you want that one 🌱: I love your writing but I want to just silently follow you for a bit longer to get a better hang of your muses 🍂: I don’t know any of your muses so I’m waiting until I can get to know them on my own 🍃: I don’t know any of your current muses but you were hinting about adding someone I do know 🍁: The muse I’m curious about doesn’t have information up yet 🎋: I don’t know which one of my muses you’re interested in 🌴: I like one or more of your muses but I can’t come up with a muse I could play 🌵: The muse I want to play with is one of your low activity/on request muses and I don’t know if you’re open for new things 🍀: I honestly haven’t even thought about interacting yet, I just followed to adore your writing
Elouise writes in beautiful elegant penmanship, "I met him at the antique store. He was lovely. His accent was sweet and more than that he was kind. I wonder if his view of me will change once he learns about my occupation and family either way, I honestly think it was love at first sight."
Send my muse an anonymous note with your muse’s feelings towards them. My muse has to guess whom the note is from.
He paced outside the doors of the funeral home, going over the contents of the letter again and again. He had it memorised, having read it several times; each time in greater disbelief.
"Elouise, I am a psychiatrist. I'll understand if you don't want to date me, but also know that as a caretaker of emotional wellbeing, I will never break your heart while we're together, and I will always find agreeable solutions to work out whatever differences we may have... I too feel this is love... As a man of reason, however, I must accept the possibility it is only mutual attraction, and shared interests. To wit, it would be an honour to be given the chance to truly earn your heart."
"It's okay." Without the magic that bound them, Fetch had no reassuring tether, no thrum of warning that he was close to breaking some written boundry in the compulsion. All he had was terrible impulse control and the ability to forget anything he'd said before even finishing the sentence.
But he didn't like seeing Dee hurt. Especially if he'd caused it. He courted frustration and anger, not pain. That wasn't fun. He couldn't even remember what worked in the past.
"Genie tails?" He muttered, repeating the word a few times, trying to feel out what was meant, saying it faster, quieter, then, when he looked down to Dee's vague gesture, his lips formed a silent 'oh', before he looked back, "I've got a penis if that's what you mean? I've always had one, we just don't use it." We. Even for the weird shit it was we with them.
"Barghests eat normally, so if I'm alive, I'll be able to eat normally." He'd said barghest maybe once in a fleeting moment before, but never so confidently. Not that it mattered, as soon as he'd said it, he just kept talking until all memory of the word was gone, "Maybe that's why I couldn't turn into a bird. I wasn't a bird, was I? But-" He looked up at the real birds around them, "I don't remember not being a bird, I've always been one, and you like the bird, even when you don't like me."
Normally, their excursions required a proper arsenal: blank journals, hefty reference tomes, or loose leaf parchment at the least. But of course they had fled their sanctuary unexpectedly this morning to find something to fill Fetch’s brand-new 'stomach.'
While Fetch muttered, Derward scrawled frantically across his own palm to keep up, etching disjointed phrases like bar guest and penis into his skin with royal ink.
Such a profound sadness overtook Derward when he realised Fetch believed he disliked the current version of him—he dropped everything he was carrying to instead embrace Fetch, stopping so abruptly he accidentally poked himself with the pen and cried out.
“I realise there are times I break into tears just at the sight of your—me—face.” Dee shook his head, a bitter smile briefly appearing before he kissed the other's cheek at the last second. “But it's only because I cannot do right by it… You are indifferent to all my efforts, my apologies, and even my affection when in this form...”
Glancing downwards, he wasn’t sure whether his handiwork or his hand had bled, though only one felt truly tragic.
“The bird sings to me, preens me; the canine protects and warms me. When you assume this creature,” he said, looking up again, cupping Fetch's cheek, “you only deride me… Add my remorse for your entrapment… There are days I wish I was dead, Fetch… Not dead like you were yesterday, but… dead... Like the rabbit. Because those days it would seem my death might bring you freedom, and freedom would most assuredly bring you happiness.”
The fingers that cupped now smoothed down Fetch's face in a begrudging departure from him.
“I never trusted you'd catch me... I jumped on the chance that you wouldn't...”
Send my muse an anonymous note with your muse’s feelings towards them. My muse has to guess whom the note is from.
Make an accusation of my muse, see if they defend themselves or agree.
Psychology Sentences, Vol. 9
(Sentences for interactions with therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists - or even just friends supporting each other. Adjust phrasing where needed)
"Being frightened is a normal, natural human function, just like breathing. It's how you react to fright that really counts."
"You feel used. Angry. Now we need to figure out whether if you're mad at me or yourself."
"You've spent so long wallowing in the past, wishing time would go backwards, but that is not how reality works."
"Isn't it all just a bit busy inside your head?"
"It can't be easy always having to prove that you belong."
"Most people's memories are unreliable. The things we see and that people say, they change over time. Your past is an illusion."
"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question? Are you happy?"
"You have to be careful fighting monsters or you might turn into one yourself."
"In such uncertain times, there is a great comfort to be found in the familiar."
"Just because something seems inevitable doesn't mean there isn't hope."
"Who are we if not the stories we tell ourselves?"
"In my experience, I find that when you set out to change the world, the world changes you instead."
"You solve everyone else's problems, but never your own."
"For me to help you, you're going to have to talk to me at some point."
"Do you ever wonder if all of this is just a dream?"
"You have an unquiet mind, and so you war with yourself like a dog trying to chew off its own tail."
"Only one person has a need to know what's the things inside my head, and that person is me."
"The truth doesn't care if you believe in it. It simply exists, whether we want it to or not."
"Does it hurt? The truth you keep hidden?"
"Human memory is sensory-based. Vision alone is not the strongest trigger. Sound and smell actually work better."
"I think if you could go back and go down a different path, you would."
"Human nature is interesting, don't you think? If you understand what makes someone tick, they become predictable."
"I think you're all about your work, and you don't know when to stop."
"Beware of ideas that are not your own."
"You said "you people". Is that because you don't think you're one of us?"
"Who teaches us to be normal when we're one of a kind?"
"Do you believe that I'm a good person? That a deserve just like everybody else?"
"What we are is as much where destiny takes us as it is what we do with the journey."
"You really don't have to save me from my own life, you know?"
"You can usually find a 'hidden' meaning in anything if you want it badly enough."
"You're not allowing yourself to feel things that you should be feeling."
"If you let that kind of poison sit on your mind, you'll die from it."
"Oh" it was in matter of seconds that his simpleton mind understood it and the idea of one attaching a rhinestones onto things, like a fabric such as this instead of seing them onto jewelry is rather fascinating that it brings a small smile on Haruto's face. "Don't you think it does make your jacket look... dare I say flamboyant? Has a flair to it which I think it is rather cute? If that is the right word here" At the end of his sentence he could not help but to chuckle softly.
"Do you happen to get her to lend you the machinery? I like to see it myself"
Haruto liked seeing him in rhinestones? Now he had to backpedal out of hating on the darn things… unless... was this just Haru’s way of teasing him? Did it matter?
Gaden stuttered slightly, pointing his thumb towards the door.
“I didn’t happen to but I’ll jus' run over and grab it, be right back. It’s kind of a revolving door with her and me anyway. When I drop Scrappy off next, I’ll return the BeDazzler.” Oooh, God, now he was imagining Haru wearing rhinestones. Black ones. Yummy.
"For the first time ever I am listening to someone so so passionate about pubs" truth to be told, if Jaemin could find peace in anything, he dare say that he would find it in an empty room. Just him and four walls but he finds it rather fascinating that someone has so much knowledge on pubs more than he ever would especially those pubs are in a country that he has yet to step a foot in but it is given isn't it? Considering Gilmary is all the way from Ireland. "How did hardware store even manage to get into the one-third of the porpotion?" Jaemin now is using the power of his imagination as he tries to envision of the pub Gilmary is describing to him. "You know, you really make want to book a flight to Ireland now and see it for myself"
Gilmary leaned on a hand as Jaemin spoke. He probably looked like a cliché, but it happened a lot when Jaemin spoke—the staring.
“Safe to assume you don’t know many Irishmen. Or Englishmen. Hell, Americans and their bars.” He scrunched his nose at Jaemin, just a little, almost demurely.
“I know this is somewhat on a whim, but what say we book that flight and see it together? It’s been a while since I' been back, and having you along, Jae, it—the memories wouldn’t be nearly as painful. I might even enjoy reminiscing, for once. Not that you’re an emotional crutch, but I guess as long as you’d be one willingly… no harm, right?”
After awhile, she had switched the open sign to off and turned off the overdoor lights to show they were closed. A small message to other patrons to show they were closing a bit early so she could get things done HOPEFULLY before midnight so she could go home. She needed to think of a grocery list. Orange juice, milk, dog food ... ugh. Bohdi likes the good dog food too. With a sprinkle of cheese. That dog is entirely spoiled.
While Terry was eating his food, she had already done the counter tops and tables. She shoved some of the plates and cups through the automatic washer to let them air dry, pulling out all of the silverware and setting herself down on another booth so she could look across to Terry.
Rubbing a cloth on each fork, knife and spoon, she organizes them after cleaning. Juniper looks over at Terry and smiles while her hands did the work without her trying. "The trash doesn't need to be taken out, the dishes are drying." she lists. Eyes casting out the windows into the dark night as the moon began to rise.
"If you want, you can fix these silverware sets. Just with a napkin and tie it with the little ribbon. Nothing major. And it doesn't have to be pretty." besides her having always strived to make it pretty. OCD and all that.
"I need to count the cashier drawers and some other things." she stands and leans in to take his plate. "Are you done? Do you need anything else?" she was still in waitress mode. "Uhm. I can get you some more coffee if you want, before I pour it out." You could see that she was hiding the pain in her face, or at least trying to. "I might need to be excused to the office for awhile too." she needs to take some motrin or tylenol or both and sit down. Juniper usually doesn't sit down except for after everything is done ... when she's finally in bed.
“I’m really good with ribbons and bows… I’ve done a lot of floral arrangements that utilised them,” he said brightly. “Where should I clean my hands to get to work?” He didn’t want to assume and use the kitchen or the bathroom; there might be a special station he didn’t know about.
“I’m good on coffee for now, thanks. And you’re excused. Well, after you show me where to wash.” Terry's eyes closed in a silent, irreproachable giggle.
"That's what makes it an insult." Sid answered slowly, a cold fake smile back across his face. He wasn't about to drink anything given to him by a stranger, much less one he was actively threatening, so Sid never looked away from Gilmary, never even considered the coffee.
As soon as Gilmary was sitting down, there was the scrape of heavy furniture moved quickly across wooden floor, and Sid's hand was against his throat. The front legs of the chair lifted for a second from the movement. Sid's whole bodyweight pressed against Gilmary, knee against him, close enough whatever overpriced cologne he wore mixed with the pungent stink of cigars and the coffee.
"Cocky doesn't suit you." Sid hissed into Gilmary's ear, his hand drifted up Gilmary's neck, held his jaw and turned his head to look one way, then the other. The ring was held up close, radiating warmth, magic kept him safe wearing it. "If you really think he's worth explaining this to people," He shoved the ring in closer to Gilmary's face, but still didn't touch, "Then pick what side you want it on."
The attack didn’t come as a shock, exactly, but it still caught the doctor unprepared. Coffee sloshed across his lap, wringing a sharp whine from him even before Sid's hand closed around his face.
“I’d rather a brand remind me of my loyalties than see nothing and be reminded of nothing.” He grinned through the grip. “So do your worst with that little bauble of yours, Sid.” Mordaunt reached up, slapping hard at the man’s cheek in a gesture more suited to sadistic bosom buddies than enemies meeting for the first time. He had no reason to fear for his vanity, putting all his faith in Laurie’s miracle cure. He had squirrelled some away, acting on pure gut before he even knew the stuff's full potential. Now that he knew, using it was a given; he’d be washing himself in Laurie after this, having stayed true to the end.
The whole thing was so poetic it was almost arousing.
It was arousing. Mordaunt felt himself growing hard under threat. Who knew that was even possible right after a caustic spill?
“Good ol’ stress-induced analgesia is already starting to kick in, so… it can’t hurt more than a hot cuppa joe to the family jewels just did, eh?”
"Honestly? I have forgotten that you were naked that night but you have to remind me of that so!" Indeed they have no secrets with each other now except if his memory serves him right, the latter had never caught him in that state (and Vanness rather keep it that way), "I feel like there is something that you haven't told but you wish to tell me... what is that? Or am I imagining things here?"
“To tell you the truth, Van, and this has nothing to do with me accidentally burning your mind's eye all over again... I've heard that you're considered EVIL in some spheres, and it's... yeah, it's been bugging the shit outta me. 'cause I love you, man. And, yes, I've said it before. And I'll probably say it again, 'cause... it doesn't really make sense to not say it to someone... I love...”
He looked up from a jumble of beautifully handwritten notes. They covered everything from water bills to business contacts and new recipes he wanted to try on Vanness—just to make sure he had something to smile about.
“This usage of evil wasn't said like hyperbole, either, or in a colloquial way. It wasn't referencing your usual wild, crazy that's in the rags next to the Archies...”